


The Passenger

by orphan_account



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Edward Alderson’s A+ parenting, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It’s not explicit but it’s pretty fucked up, M/M, Memory Loss, Non-Explicit Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicidal Thoughts, Unreliable Narrator, Work In Progress, drugs and alcohol, it gets kinda eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, the third alter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 10:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 18,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21372394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Elliot wakes up with some gaps in his memory, and Mr. a Robot is gone. But someone else is there in his mind...someone with bad intentions. Elliot is overwhelmed as he begins dealing with his own trauma. Darlene and Tyrell are there for him, but some battles must be fought alone.
Relationships: Darlene Alderson/Dominique DiPierro, Elliot Alderson/Angela Moss, Elliot Alderson/Tyrell Wellick
Comments: 27
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between Season 3 and 4 in an alternate timeline. There will be spoilers through the end of Season 3 and some incidental Season 4 spoilers. Be gentle, this is my first fic!
> 
> EDIT 3/11/20 - basically this is just how I thought the show might end after watching S3. Wish fulfillment makes the best hobby!  
There may be minor spoilers based on 407 (which hadn’t aired yet when I started this fic). If CSA is a trigger for you, you may want to sit this one out. 
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos because I’m insecure and require constant affirmation THANKS 😂

Elliot woke up alone. Not just alone physically, but alone in his head. It was quiet. Eerily quiet. He couldn’t sense Mr. Robot in his head, but there was an echo of sorts, a vibrating hum like when you leave a nightclub or a concert and you can still hear the beat in your head for hours. Like hearing damage. Except this was definitely brain damage. His thoughts were cloudy. 

Quiet doesn’t mean that the other one is gone, Elliot quickly reminded himself. He’s been quiet before, when it served his purposes. We need to be careful. He was so used to referring to himself in the plural that the concept of the word “I” didn’t even occur to him.

The vibrating thrum in his brain was beginning to fade, replaced by a stabbing headache. As he sat up in bed, he felt the stab of the headache hit him. He needed water. He swung his legs out of bed and groaned as he felt them cramp and protest. What had he been doing? He glanced around and realized this was not his apartment, but Darlene’s. 

Ignoring his body’s protests he got to his feet. He was still wearing his clothes from the day before. Black jeans, white socks, black t shirt, black hoodie. They smelled like stale sweat and he wished he could change. He stumbled into the kitchen, tried a few cabinets before he found one with some smudged drinking glasses. He grabbed a glass and filled it at the sink. He didn’t wait for the glass to be completely full before he began greedily gulping down the slightly metallic liquid. He refilled the cup and drank again then shut the tap off and took the glass with him back to the bed. 

He had to find out where Darlene was. Maybe she knew something, could tell him something about what had happened in the gap of time between the escape from Virtual Reality and waking up here. He checked his phone. No messages from Darlene. The clock said 11:43 AM. Shit. He’d slept through almost half a day. Where was Darlene?

He fired off an encrypted message to Darlene: “Where are you? Call me ASAP.” He brought his phone with him into the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face and examined his reflection. His eyes were red. His face felt puffy, like he’d been crying. Of course, that wasn’t unusual. He was always crying these days. His sadness kept overflowing and taking over his body and he’d be wracked with sobs for hours. 

His body hurt so bad. The headache was blinding, and the pain in his back and legs was worse. He needed a pill, just one, to help with the pain. He would just chew it up and swallow it, not snort it. Then he would be able to think clearly.

Sitting on the bed he unzipped the backpack and felt around for the pill bottle. Not there. Confused, he opened up the backpack all the way and began rummaging around. There was nothing in the backpack but a laptop and some cables, and a small leather wallet. He opened his wallet hoping it might contain a baggie with a couple of pills. Nope. Just a few dollars and some ID cards - multiple ID cards with different names. Sam Sepiol. Karl Bartos. Christian Duvall. Elliot Alderson. An ID for every pseudonym. He liked to be prepared. But where the fuck were the pills? Fuck. Did Darlene take them off him? There wasn’t even a pack of cigarettes. 

He’d have to go score some pills, or he wouldn’t be any use to anyone.

He slung the backpack over his shoulder and headed out into the street. He locked the knob as he went out, but didn’t have the key to lock the deadbolt. He realized he was locking himself out but he knew he wouldn’t be coming back here anyway. His mind raced as he tried to think where he could go to get a fix. He didn’t know any dealers in this area. Or did he? There was that one scumbag, Hard Andy. Elliot couldn’t remember how they’d met, but he’d been using the guy on and off for a while.

It was about a 20 minute subway ride and his body was screaming the whole time. But it was just pain, not withdrawal. He was impressed that there were no withdrawal symptoms. He couldn’t have been without his drugs for very long. There was no eye watering, no sniffling, no restlessness.

Hard Andy’s place was a shithole. Even shittier than Elliot’s shitty apartment. He rapped hard on the door and could hear a dog barking, then Hard Andy appeared in the doorway looking annoyed. But his expression changed when he saw Elliot.

“Hey baby,” Andy said, with a sleazy grin. “Back so soon?”

“You’re whacked, man, I haven’t seen you in months.” Elliot glanced around the hallway, scanning for cameras. “Can I come in?”

Andy’s amused expression didn’t leave his face. “Sure, come on in, make yourself right at home.”

Elliot entered the apartment, which looked like it was straight out of the 1970s. The color scheme was puke yellow and bright orange and Elliot’s head throbbed harder. He needed to get the drugs and get the fuck out of here.

Hard Andy’s boys - two pale middle aged dudes with guns in their waistbands - patted him down for weapons and lifted his shirt to check for wires. Satisfied, the guys nodded approval at Andy.

Elliot was led into the bedroom and the door shut behind him. Hard Andy opened a suitcase and said, “pick your poison. I don’t have any of that suboxone shit but I’ve got plenty of other things that will satisfy.” He licked his lips and winked. “As you know, Hard Andy always guarantees 100% satisfaction.”

Elliot ignored the briefcase. “Morphine,” he said. “Just enough for a few days.” He didn’t want to seem too needy. After all, this wasn’t going to be a permanent habit. That’s why it was called a fix. Just something to fix him up now. Not a permanent solution. A bandaid. 

Hard Andy arched one lined eyebrow. “You ran through all of that last batch already? Damn boy. You sure you aren’t trying to sell in Hard Andy’s territory?”

“What are you talking about,” Elliot said. Hard Andy just shrugged.

“Hey, none of my business. But I gotta see that money.” Elliot fumbled with the wallet. Hard Andy was standing too close to him. He hated when people stood so close.

“How much will this get me?” Elliot said, shoving the contents of his wallet into Hard Andy’s palm.

“Baby, cash is hard to come by these days, but I’m not that hard up.” Hard Andy looked him up and down. “Unless you want to make alternative arrangements.” 

Elliot didn’t like the glint he saw there in the other man’s eyes. But he needed this, he deserved it. 

“What did you have in mind?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darlene is having a good day until Angela calls.

Darlene was having a good day. Those days were so incredibly rare that she found herself waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

She’d been living with Dom while Elliot crashed at her place. She felt safe with Dom. It wasn’t just that having an FBI agent there made her feel safe. There was something about Dom that made Darlene feel damn near domestic. Dom made her breakfast in the mornings. Dom made sure she got enough sleep. Dom woke her up from the nightmares and panic attacks when she felt like she couldn’t fucking breathe. Darlene knew she wasn’t safe from the monsters. The Dark Army wanted her dead the way they’d wanted Cisco dead. 

All the shit she’d been through the last few months made her fucking head spin. Having a normal life seemed like a stretch. But she could at least pretend to be normal. And Dom made her want to pretend.

Dom was at work so Darlene had the place to herself. She’d been relaxing on the couch, watching shitty reality TV, eating cereal, playing the part of normal. And she hadn’t checked her phone all morning. When she heard the phone vibrating on the coffee table, she figured it was just Dom, saying she’d be late getting home. Late nights weren’t unusual for Dom, but she always made sure Darlene was safe. 

The caller ID was an unknown number. That was weird. Dom didn’t normally take precautions like that. Darlene’s stomach dropped a little as she pressed the “accept call” button.

“Hello?”

“Darlene. It’s me.”

“Angela?” Darlene stopped chewing her cereal. “What’s up? It’s...been a while.” She didn’t say what she was thinking - _ It’s been a while since you manipulated my brother. It’s been a while since you helped the Dark Army blow up 4,000 people. It’s been a while since you went fucking mental._

“I’m sorry we haven’t spoken,” Angela said. “I’m doing much better now. But I need to talk to you about Elliot.”

“What about Elliot?” Darlene said, defensively. Angela was her best friend, but Darlene didn’t want her anywhere near her brother right now.”

“I’ve been tracking his phone for a while now. Don’t get pissed. I just wanted to make sure he was safe. I don’t know if you know this but he tried to kill himself a couple weeks ago.”

Darlene felt like she’d been slapped. “What? What the fuck are you saying? He wouldn’t do that.”

Angela continued as if the interruption hadn’t happened. “He went to this real piece of shit drug dealer and got a bag of morphine. He was going to kill himself but he changed his mind. I don’t know why. But anyway, the drug dealer’s apartment...his phone location says he’s back there again.”

“What do you mean, he hasn’t been using for months!” Darlene’s voice broke and she slid off the couch so that she was sitting on the floor with her head laying back against the seat cushion. “He’s been clean for MONTHS,” she repeated. She didn’t want to hear whatever Angela was saying about Elliot. She didn’t want to know.

“I know,” said Angela. “I don’t think this is a relapse. What if...what if he’s going to try to hurt himself again?” 

Darlene could hear a wobble in Angela’s stoic voice. She was crying. Darlene was crying too. It was just like the two of them - best friends, worried about Elliot. Like so many times before.

“He’s not answering his phone,” said Angela. “Do you know where he is?”

Darlene remembered the hacked Signal app. She could find out where Elliot was. He’d be able to tell her that suicide thing was just Angela’s melodramatic bullshit. She’d find him and she’d figure this shit out. 

“Angela, just stay where you are. I’m gonna go find Elliot and then I’ll bring him to your apartment.”

“Okay,” said Angela.

“He’ll be fine,” said Darlene. After a pause, she added, “We’ll see you soon.” She ended the call. Her tone had been firm and reassuring, the way you’d talk to a small child. But as she held the phone, staring at the call history, her hand was shaking. 

She pulled up the Signal app and tracked Elliot’s location. He wasn’t at Darlene’s building. She didn’t recognize the part of town where he was. She tried his number. It rang out. She dialed again. Same thing. No voicemail, just endless ringing.

“Goddammit Elliot.” She pulled on her coat and slipped out the door. She made sure her head was covered with the hood. She didn’t know who might be watching Dom’s apartment. Once she was out of the building lobby and on the crowded street, she dialed Dom’s work number. 

Voicemail. Dom rarely answered her phone while she was working.

Darlene left a message, trying to keep her voice calm. “Dom, it’s me. I’m worried about Elliot. Angela called me and I’m going to look for him. I’ll explain everything, I promise. Just call me back.”

As she made her way down the street, speed walking and dodging pedestrians, she offered a silent prayer: _please God, just let Elliot be OK. Please. Please let Elliot be OK._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot isn’t sure if he’s in control anymore, but he doesn’t care as long as he can feel numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some rape/non-con elements in this chapter. This is not Elliot’s first trauma.

Hard Andy smelled like cigarettes and wine. Fruity and chemical based. Elliot had taken his clothes off reluctantly so Hard Andy could check him for wires. When he felt Andy’s cold hand on his back, spinning him around, he flinched. Hard Andy watched Elliot spin.

“You’re too sweet, kid. You’ve got some potential. Why didn’t we ever fuck before?” Hard Andy’s tone was conversational.

Elliot flushed. “Maybe because I’ve never been that desperate,” said Elliot bitingly.

Hard Andy laughed. “We’ll see about that. Times like these can make a man pretty desperate. The world’s falling apart. People are dead. More are dying every day. The world just gets colder and colder by the minute. I know you can feel all that.” He reached out a hand and caressed Elliot’s chest. “You know I want to make you feel better. All you gotta do is lie still and let me make you feel good.” Hard Andy grabbed one of Elliot’s nipples and pinched, and Elliot pulled away.

“Fuck this,” he said. “I don’t need this. I can find someone else to sell to me.”

Hard Andy grinned again. “Can you now? You know anybody else who’s holding? Cause I’ve got a vice grip on this area. And I’ve got friends. Connected friends. I could put the word out, ‘This Elliot kid is a cop.’ Is that what you want?”

Elliot froze. To never get morphine again, from anyone. That was a future he couldn’t even consider.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and strained. “What do you want.”

“I just want to give you pleasure. I just want to make you feel good, baby.” He reached into the briefcase and pulled out a syringe. “Here, this is on the house. Just a taste of what you’ll get if you start playing nice with me.”

Elliot didn’t like needles. “What is it.”

Andy laughed. “Don’t worry about it kid. It’s good. It will help you feel real good about all of this.”

Elliot wanted to say no. Wanted to bust his way out of the apartment. But he did want it, whatever it was Andy had in the syringe. He wanted not to feel his body for a while. He wanted to take advantage of Mr. Robot being gone, and just take some time for himself. To feel good. 

Elliot laid down on the bed. It was a twin bed with a ratty yellow blanket over it. There was music playing over the stereo and Elliot tried to focus on it, focus on anything else. Hard Andy took a rubber tube and tied it around Elliot’s upper arm. “Squeeze your fist,” he said. “You have nice veins.”

He watched Andy put the needle in his arm and push the plunger. At first it burned and Elliot felt sick with the horror of the situation. But then that feeling was gone, replaced with a feeling unlike anything he’d ever felt before - pure bliss dripping up his arm and into his heart and spreading, warm and inviting, to every part of his body. He slumped against the wall and giggled. “Oh my god.”

“Good shit huh,” said Andy. 

“I feel sick,” said Elliot as a wave of nausea hit him.

“It will pass,” said Hard Andy. “Have some water.”

Hard Andy handed Elliot a bottle of water and he chugged greedily, just like he had over Darlene’s sink. Swallowing felt like an effort, but at least he didn’t want to throw up anymore. He wanted to close his eyes and drift off in this peaceful feeling and make it last forever. He closed his eyes and sighed with pleasure. He felt Hard Andy wiping the water off his lips and chin.

“Hey hey, no passing out on me yet. Not so fast kiddo,” said Hard Andy. “Remember that nothing in life is free. Lay down on your back. I’ll make you feel good.” 

Elliot complied. His motions were slow as if were floating in a river of concrete. He felt Hard Andy touching him again but he didn’t care as much now, not even when his briefs were pulled off. He felt Hard Andy’s breath between his legs. When he felt Andy’s mouth close around him, it was like all of this was happening to someone else. It didn’t feel bad, just...strange.

Then Hard Andy’s mouth went away and Elliot felt himself being curled up on his side. His brain had a sudden thought. _This isn’t what I want. This isn’t worth it. I need to stop this._ Then another voice was suddenly in his head. 

_Don’t be scared Kiddo. I’m with you._

Mr. Robot was there. Elliot didn’t have to be alone right now. _I thought you were gone._

_I told you I’d never leave you._

For the next few minutes, Elliot could let Mr. Robot take his body over. He couldn’t feel any pain, just the bliss of the drug in his system. As Andy’s hips pushed against him, he let his mind wander. He wasn’t here. This wasn’t happening. It’s a game he’d played many times as a kid. He could almost make himself believe that he wasn’t attached to his body anymore. Right now he couldn’t tell what he was feeling. Was he feeling happy? Sad? Scared? The truth was, there were no feelings. And that’s the way he liked it. Feelings were what got him into trouble. It was so much easier to not feel. To choose to just let things happen to him. To not be bothered by them. Then it was his choice. It was all within his control. 

_Control is an illusion._ That voice again. 

_I know._

He felt his control on reality slipping away. It was fine. Everything was fine. He was just going to sleep now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darlene finds Elliot at Hard Andy’s and it’s very clear that something is wrong with Elliot.

“Elliot, what the fuck.” 

A shrill voice brought Elliot back to consciousness. It was Darlene, standing over him. One of Hard Andy’s security guys stood next to her. He was on Hard Andy’s couch, drooling onto a pillow. He was wrapped in a blanket. What had happened? Where were his clothes?

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. He suddenly remembered. The syringe. It wasn’t morphine, but he’d known that, hadn’t he. And then he remembered the other part. The part were he’d let Hard Andy do things to him. He felt a deep and aching shame rise up in his gut.

“Darlene...I’m sorry. I know you wanted me to quit the morphine.”

“Elliot what are you talking about? You quit months ago.”

Elliot stared at her. “What the fuck are YOU talking about?”

“You’ve been clean. For months. Since before 5/9.” He stared up at her blankly. “Tell me you remember.”

A flash popped into his head. Withdrawing from the drugs. Mr. Robot in his head, saying _I’ll never leave you._ Elliot had heard those words before. 

He felt around in his brain, trying to remember what had happened. Where had he been? Where was Mr. Robot? It was all blank.

Darlene was pulling him by the hand. “You gotta get up Elliot. We can’t let them find you here.”

Elliot swallowed hard. “Let who find me? What are you talking about?” 

Darlene glanced at the security guy. “Would you give us a minute please? My brother is sick.” 

“Lady, you can take your brother and get the hell out. He got what he came here for.” The dude threw Elliot’s backpack down next to him.

“Darlene,” Elliot said, and shame washed over him again. “Wait for me outside. I’ll be right out.”

“I’m not leaving you. I’m staying right fucking here.”

“You CAN’T.” He spoke these words harshly but with authority. She looked into his eyes, searching for his meaning. He stared back at her, imploring her to just go. 

Finally, with a sigh, she stepped back towards the front door. “I’ll be right outside.” Then, to the security goon, “If he’s not out in five minutes I’m calling the cops.” 

As soon as the door closed, Elliot stood up. The security guy averted his gaze while Elliot got dressed. Elliot was almost out the front door when the door to Hard Andy’s bedroom opened up.

“Baby,” said Hard Andy, “don’t forget these.” He threw a bottle to Elliot containing 5 morphine pills. Elliot burned with sudden anger. He had to get the hell out of here before he did something stupid. Even more stupid

“Come back anytime,” said Hard Andy as Elliot crossed to the door and shut it behind him. 

Outside, Darlene was agitated. She was tapping a foot nervously on the ground and smoking a cigarette. 

When the door opened and Elliot came out she rushed to embrace him. “What is going on,” she said. “Are you OK? Please tell me you’re OK.”

Elliot just shook his head. “I don’t...I’m not...I can’t understand what’s happening to me right now. There are things I don’t remember.”

Darlene pulled away and stared at him. “Do you remember me?”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes. You’re Darlene.” She looked unsure, so he added, “My sister, Darlene.” 

She looked relieved. “OK. Let’s get you to Angela’s—she’s worried sick about you.”

“Angela?” He looked confused. “I thought Angela was living with her Dad in New Jersey.”

Darlene looked worried again. “Angela has her apartment in the city, remember? E Corp is paying for her to live in one of its corporate apartments, since she started working there?”

Elliot’s head hurt again. “Angela...at EvilCorp?” It sounded vaguely familiar but it was all so far away now. What the hell was happening to him?

“Come on,” said Darlene. “We can’t stay in this shithole neighborhood. Let’s get to Angela’s and I’ll explain everything.” 

As soon as they stepped on the subway another wave of nausea hit him. Whatever had been in that syringe - heroin, probably - it wasn’t agreeing with him on the comedown. He felt like he was going to puke. How long had it been? He checked his watch. It was 4:15 pm. He’d been at Hard Andy’s for more than 3 hours. Had Darlene been looking for him this whole time? 

He felt her concerned eyes on him. “I’m fine,” he said. “Really.” 

“That’s bullshit Elliot. You’re not fine. You’re on drugs. You were naked in some drug dealer’s apartment. What the hell is going on with you?” 

Shit. She knew. She knew about the heroin and probably about what he’d done with Hard Andy. It was so much worse to have someone know. Now he couldn’t deny that it was real. He couldn’t pretend it had never happened. It wasn’t the same when someone else knew the secret. 

“I’m just not feeling well,” he said. “How long until we get to Angela’s place?”

“Just a few more stops. Can you make it? You look...bad.”

He nodded and put his head down in his hands, willing the nausea to go away. The headache was back now too. “I’ll make it,” he said. He didn’t know if he believed it.

Mr. Robot was gone again. Had he ever really been back? Elliot didn’t know. It was lonely without him. Elliot needed someone to explain to him what was going on. He needed someone to tell him everything would be OK.

He focused on each breath. One breath in, hold for a few seconds, one breath out. Just like Krista had taught him. Sometimes this helped to stave off the panic inside him.

Darlene stared at her brother as he breathed raggedly in and out. She felt like the worst sister in the world. How could she have been living in her little bubble of domestic bliss while her brother was falling to pieces? She wouldn’t let this happen again. She wouldn’t leave Elliot alone in the world. Never again.

Darlene didn’t even feel herself crying until the tears hit her cheeks. She put an arm around her brother and cradled him to her, closing her eyes. She breathed with him. In, and out. In, and out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Angela’s apartment, Elliot tries to sort out his memories.

Angela was pacing. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t think. Elliot was in danger again. The Dark Army might have him now. She shouldn’t have let him out of her sight. She knew something was up with him. Last time they talked, he seemed off. She couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong, and that’s why she started tracking him.

The knock at the door startled her. She peered out the keyhole to find Darlene and Elliot. Relief flooded over her. He was safe. She flung the door open.

“Hey Angela,” said Elliot. He looked like shit. Pale and waxy. His eyes weren’t focusing correctly. She shot a questioning look at Darlene. 

“Hey babe,” said Darlene and embraced Angela briefly before turning to Elliot. “Elliot I think you should lay down.”

Elliot nodded. He looked too tired to argue. Angela led him into the bedroom, Darlene following. He collapsed onto the white duvet, looking like he’d run a marathon. 

After Elliot was settled, Angela began making a pot of coffee. Darlene took out a cigarette and lit it.

“You can’t smoke in here,” said Angela.

“Who even cares? It’s not like you’re paying for this place.” Darlene fiddled with a piece of hair as she took a deep drag on the cigarette. “You’re right. He’s losing it again.”

“What happened?”

“He doesn’t remember shit. He didn’t remember you lived here, that you’ve been working for E Corp. He didn’t remember that he was clean, off morphine. He went to that shitty apartment to score drugs. And I don’t know...” Darlene paused. “I found him naked on the couch of that fucking perv’s apartment. Passed the fuck out. Obviously high.”

Angela’s heart sank. “What do you mean he doesn’t remember?”

Darlene shook her head as if trying to clear it. “It’s like he’s gone back in time. He doesn’t seem to have a grip on reality. I don’t know if he even knows about the cyber bombings.”

Angela stared at her. “How could he not know?”

Darlene shrugged. “He’s lost time before. Maybe this is just that. But he seems different, you know? Like...tabula rasa. Blank slate. I could just fill in the details of reality with whatever.”

Angela took a mug from the cupboard and poured a cup of coffee. “Does...does he remember what I did?”

Darlene gave her a withering stare. “That you fucking manipulated him and kept him under Mr. Robot’s control so you could blow up a bunch of buildings? Well if he doesn’t remember that I’m happy to remind him. He shouldn’t trust you.”

Angela sighed. “Look. I didn’t know what would happen. Whiterose was manipulating me. I’m sorry.”

Darlene just shrugged. “You don’t have to apologize to me. You have to apologize to him. And mean it.”

“So what do we do?”

Darlene shrugged again. “I don’t know. My plan was to find him. Now I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if he’s okay. Or how to make him okay.” 

—

Elliot could barely make out what Darlene and Angela were saying. He couldn’t sleep. He opened his backpack and stared at the tiny blue pills. Shit. He was hurting. He still needed the pills. Needed to focus. 

But Darlene said he’d been clean for months. That’s why he wasn’t going through withdrawal symptoms. If he had forgotten that, what else had he forgotten?

_Need to think,_ he said to himself. _What’s the last thing we remember?_

_Shayla._ No - Shayla was dead. He had known that. He’d just forgotten somehow. When someone else mentioned a memory to him, it would come flooding back. But it’s like those memories happened to someone else. Elliot was just a passenger in his own mind, an observer in his own memories. But if Elliot was just an observer, who had been in control? Mr. Robot? He wasn’t in control the whole time. Another one? 

Damn. He needed to remember. He needed to find out what the fuck was going on.

_Tyrell._ Tyrell would have the answers. Elliot needed to get in touch with Tyrell.

What would Tyrell think of him? He would be able to see that Elliot was...different. Elliot shook as he thought of what he was now. _Damaged. A fucking junkie. Dirty. Disgusting. Worthless._ Just like his mother had always known he was. Worthless.

He grabbed the morphine bottle and emptied two of the pills into his palm. What did it matter now? He put the pills in his mouth and chewed, wincing at the bitter taste on his tongue. Chewing wasn’t as good as snorting, but he needed to cover up this empty feeling, quickly. He knew he would run out eventually, and there was no suboxone, now that Shayla was gone. But he didn’t care. That was a problem for another day. 

He laid back down and waited for the drug to take effect. Waited for his mind to quiet and his body to still. Waited for that blissful emptiness to overtake him.

—

Darlene yawned. The stress of the day was catching up with her. It had started as such a good day. Now everything was totally fucked.

Angela said, “How long has he been asleep?”

Darlene checked her watch. “About an hour. Do you have anything he can eat? Just something normal, something bland.”

Angela nodded. “I could make him toast.”

Darlene sighed. “That will work.”

“What about you?”

“What about me,” said Darlene. 

“Are you okay?”

Darlene stopped to consider the question. “No, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay for a long time. Dark Army, FBI, I have no idea where the next threat is coming from. There’s no time to breathe. If it wasn’t for Dom...”

“Who?”

“Agent Dominique DiPierro, FBI. My girlfriend.” She laughed at Angela’s slack-jawed expression. “What? You always knew I wasn’t completely straight.”

“But an FBI agent? How much does she know? About you, about 5/9?”

“She knows everything,” said Darlene. “She’s letting me hide out with her.”

“Where?”

Darlene shot Angela a glare. “Like I’m gonna tell you.“ She could tell her words had wounded Angela a little bit. But the part of her that trusted Angela with all her secrets was gone, maybe forever. 

Angela knew it too. They were best friends once, the three of them - Angela, Elliot, and Darlene. The three musketeers. Them against the world. 

But that had been a long time ago. The world had changed. They had changed. And nothing would ever be the same.

—

Elliot woke with a start to something new. A new feeling in his head. Like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. Someone was there with him, in his mind. 

_Hey Kiddo..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot gets the scoop from Mr. Robot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a minute. I am not sure this will be spoiler free anymore because although I plotted this story out prior to the airing of 407, I always intended for this to be about Elliot’s past abuse, and now we’ve ventured into that territory on the show. I will do my best to stick to my original plot and not veer off into the show’s territory too much.

_“Hello Kiddo.”_

Elliot shook with rage.

_”Where the FUCK have you been?”   
_

Mr. Robot let out a low whistle. He was visible only to Elliot, walking around the foot of the bed. “Bahamas! Really nice this time of year. Spent a week at one of those all inclusive resorts.”

“Not fucking funny.”

”I see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. Where do you THINK I’ve been? I’m part of you. I’m in your noggin. Been watching reruns of the Aldersons variety special. You told me to get lost, remember?”

”I don’t fucking remember anything.”

Mr. Robot frowned. “You told me to get lost. You said you needed time to yourself and that I needed to respect that.”

”I...” Elliot was slurring his speech. He didn’t feel high, exactly. Just a bit numb. “I’ve been forgetting things.”

Mr. Robot sighed. “Back on the pills again, I see? I thought we’d been over this already. You don’t need them! We are both better off without them. You need to—”

”Just, shut up. You have no idea what I’ve been through the past 24 hours.” Elliot turned onto his side and brought his knees up to his chest. He couldn’t feel much pain, but he felt something like awareness. Awareness that parts of him were inflamed. Parts of him were bruised. It was all blurry, but the memories were there. The pain, the shame, the violation were all there in his brain, just like Mr. Robot. Like a crowded room when all he needed was a little bit of quiet.

”What happened?” asked Mr. Robot, more gently.

”You don’t want to know,” said Elliot blankly.

”Well, you’re a mess. If you were gonna score, at least score more than a handful. It’s gonna be withdrawal city before too long. I know where we can find suboxone. But if you want me to hook you up with some suboxone you better tell me.”

Elliot sighed. “I went to the apartment of some guy, Hard Andy.”

”That scumbag,” said Mr. Robot.

”I needed to get high. I thought...I didn’t remember that I’d been clean. I thought if I didn’t get high, I’d get sick. I was confused.” Elliot paused. He swallowed and his throat felt like sandpaper. “I didn’t have enough money. He told me he’d hook me up. Injected me with something.”

”Morphine?”

Elliot shook his head. “Must have been heroin. It was too much. Made me nauseous and then...I didn’t feel much of anything. And he wanted...more.”

When he spoke again, Mr. Robot’s voice was low snarl. “What did he do to you?”

Elliot decided it was best to just say it. He mumbled, stuttering and tripping over the words, but he knew Mr. Robot could understand him. “He took my pants off and he, you know. I was too fucked up to care. I was almost passed out, and he...he...had sex with me.”

”He raped you.”

Elliot shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. But I didn’t say no. I didn’t say anything. I should have known what he wanted. I didn’t try to stop him.”

“Son...” Mr. Robot put a hand on Elliot’s forehead. “You know as well as I do that what he did was wrong. You’re not to blame. You know that, right?”

Unbidden, tears came to Elliot’s eyes. “Where were you?” he said, voice quavering. “Why didn’t you stop him? You’ve always been there when I needed you. Why didn’t you know?”

Mr. Robot continued to pat Elliot’s hair. “I heard you. I didn’t know what I was hearing, but I heard something. I felt something was wrong, in your soul. But I couldn’t get to you. You don’t remember but when you told me to get lost, you were able to put me in a little box in your mind. Well, more like a jail cell. A jail cell with cable.” He put his hand on Elliot’s forehead as if checking for a fever. “You must have used the drugs as a way to keep me there. They make it hard for me to take control. Even when you need me.”  
  


Elliot was shaking. “I needed you.”

Mr. Robot’s voice shook. “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I’m sorry I couldn’t take the pain for you.”

Elliot had tears pouring down his face now. He rocked back and forth in the fetal position, Mr. Robot’s hand on his head, soothing. 

”Elliot,” began Mr. Robot gently. “Maybe we should tell Darlene. Maybe we should get you to a hospital and get you checked out.”

”What’s the point,” said Elliot. “I can’t tell the cops without admitting to the morphine. They probably wouldn’t believe a junkie anyway. Besides...I don’t know if I can handle that. Even sober, I just - I don’t know if I can handle it.”

Mr. Robot said, “Are you OK? I mean, physically?”

Elliot laughed. “I’m stoned out of my mind and I just got raped by a drug dealer and oh yeah, did I mention I’m forgetting things? Huge things?” He shook his head. “I’m pretty fucking far from OK.”

”Tell you what,” said Mr. Robot. “Let me see what I can do about getting us some suboxone. We’ll get you feeling better and then we can talk about what to do about all that.”

Elliot reached out for Mr. Robot and grabbed him. “I don’t know why I sent you away. But I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too. Now, just try not to worry about it. We’re gonna figure this out.”

After a minute, Elliot was asleep again. Mr. Robot grabbed Elliot’s phone and sent a text via the signal app. 

MSG: “Tyrell. Need to meet. I’m sending you an address - do NOT be seen.” 

After sending it Mr. Robot paused for a moment and checked his mind for evidence that Elliot had seen the text. But Elliot’s consciousness had temporarily taken a back seat. Good. Give the kid a little rest. He’d feel better soon. And, Mr. Robot thought, _I will never leave him alone again. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrell turns up for a meeting with Elliot and finds Mr. Robot instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter. There will be more Tyrell, I promise!

Tyrell Wellick pulled up to the cafe 5 minutes early. He drove his own car these days and luckily the place had valet. He hated the subway. He hated walking even more. He felt there were eyes on him wherever he went. 

He went to the men’s washroom to fix his hair. He wanted to look good for Elliot. His hair was slicked back with a gentle pomade and his face was freshly shaved and moisturized. The suit was a light grey pinstriped number, exquisitely tailored. The blue oxford underneath matched his eyes. No tie today. He’d wanted to look relaxed. Casual. But he regretted it now as he surveyed his naked neck in the mirror. Did it look strange? Was strange good? Elliot certainly seemed to enjoy strange.

When Tyrell slid into the booth, Elliot was already waiting there. He looked tired. Restless. Something was up with him.

“Bon soir, Ell—”

“Cut the crap. It’s me.”

Tyrell hadn’t been expecting Mr. Robot, and his heart sank slightly when he realized the man in the hoodie was not the childlike soul Tyrell had first fallen in love with, but the other side of Elliot. The side that was harsh and coarse. ‘Mr. Robot.’ A stupid name. Tyrell would never call him that. He called him ‘you’ or ‘Robot’ most of the time. 

“You,” he said stiffly. “To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“We have a problem. With your boyfriend.”

The word ‘boyfriend’ stung Tyrell a little bit. They were definitely not a couple. Elliot would get close to Tyrell and then pull back as though some invisible barrier had been reached. He’d go running back to Angela, his childhood love. That vapid blonde bitch. What could Elliot possibly see in her? Tyrell had money. He had power. He could offer Elliot so much more than that blonde woman ever could. If Elliot would just—

“Hey, dickhead, are you listening to me? Elliot’s been attacked.”

“What?” Tyrell’s narcissistic reverie was suddenly over. “What happened?”

“Well, I don’t know all the details. I’m taking the wheel for a little while while he recovers. But I wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean you weren’t there?” Tyrell was irritable. He thought he understood the rules of how this whole thing worked, this bizarre switching routine. “You know everything he knows.”

“Not this time,” sighed Robot. “The kid—Elliot—something spooked him. He told me to leave him alone and when I told him I wasn’t sure that was a good idea, he somehow...locked me away.” 

Tyrell wanted to hear more but a waitress stopped by to take their order. Robot ordered oysters. “On his tab,” he told the waitress with a sunny smile. It was one of the most expensive items on the menu. Not that Tyrell cared about money, now that he would be the new CTO of E Corp. But it was irritating nonetheless. Tyrell glared at him. 

“So if you were locked up, how did you get out?”

Robot shrugged. “One minute the cell door was locked, the next it was open. I don’t know how it works. I don’t know how he managed to do it in the first place. But I know Elliot’s on morphine. Made it hard for me to think. I couldn’t break my way out of that cell because I couldn’t think. It was like being underwater.”

Tyrell didn’t understand what Robot was babbling about. “You said he was attacked,” said Tyrell. “But I don’t see a mark on you. Was it some sort of cyber attack?”

Robot scoffed, but he looked troubled. “Listen,” he said. “I won’t go into details, but I could hear his mind screaming. He was screaming ‘don’t touch me.’” Robot fiddled with a steak knife on the table. 

“So someone was hurting him,” said Tyrell. He didn’t want to believe what he was beginning to suspect.

He glanced back up at Tyrell, as if he was contemplating how much to share. “Jesus. Do I have to fucking spell it out for you? Elliot told me he was at a drug dealer’s place. This asshole named Hard Andy. A total scumbag. He shot Elliot up with some H and then Elliot woke up with no clothes on.”

Tyrell reeled. There was a long moment of silence as the reality of Robot’s words sunk in. Tyrell felt a horror rising up in his chest. His fists automatically balled up and he reached across the table and grabbed Robot by the collar. “How could you let this happen, you son of a bitch.”

He could tell he’d hit a nerve. Robot’s eyes flashed with something like regret. “I know,” he said. 

But then his expression hardened once more.

“Listen,” said Robot. “I can’t go back to that place, but you can. I need you to go over there and take care of that piece of garbage. I don’t want him anywhere near Elliot. And if something happens, if I can’t be there again— well, I just don’t want to leave anything up to chance.”

“I’ll kill that bastard,” said Tyrell. “He doesn’t deserve to live.”

Robot nodded. “I was hoping you’d feel that way. But don’t be seen. Darlene’s dating that DiPierro chick. We don’t need the FBI up in our business, so don’t give them an excuse.”

Tyrell laughed. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.” 

“It’s a shitty building. I’ll text you the address. Two security guys, but I’m sure that won’t be an issue for you.”

It would not be an issue, no. Tyrell had killed before. He had smothered the life out of a woman. He’d also spent many an hour engaging in his preferred form of anger management - beating the city’s homeless population to a pulp. He knew how to cover his tracks, and he wouldn’t be brought down by some measly drug dealer.

“Can I speak with him? With Elliot?” Tyrell asked suddenly. He wanted to comfort Elliot. To tell him face to face that he would avenge him. 

“Not gonna happen. Not for a while. I need to keep him safe.”

Tyrell stared into the other man’s eyes. They were Elliot’s eyes, too. He loved those eyes. Blue and gray and green all at once, like an ocean. Tyrell did not break eye contact. “Well, then tell him. Tell him I’m gonna fix everything. Tell him this bastard will wish he was never born.”

“Yeah, okay.” Robot sounded almost bored. “I’ll be sure to relay the message.”

Robot stood just as the waitress approached the table again with the plate of artfully arranged oysters. He grabbed an oyster off the plate and inhaled it in a fluid motion, then dropped the shell on the table. “Enjoy your dinner Tyrell. Watch out you don’t get any schmaltz on that fancy suit of yours.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Robot scores some suboxone; Elliot has a shower and some things start coming back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra trigger warning, this chapter has heavy non-explicit description of childhood sexual abuse. 
> 
> Note: “Boxes” is street slang for suboxone.

Darlene fixed Mr. Robot with a heavy glare. Mr. Robot had told her he was going out to run some errands and get some ibuprofen. He’d promised he wouldn’t be long. He’d left Elliot’s phone behind so Darlene couldn’t track it. 

After the meeting with Tyrell, he met up with a contact of his. Well, not so much a contact as a guy he’d been blackmailing. The douchebag was a scumbag lawyer at a respectable midtown firm. He told the world he was 7 years clean when in reality he was taking enough Percocet every day that his liver would be shot in a year. 

Douchebag peddled the Boxes on the side and used the extra money to support his pill habit. Mr. Robot never paid though. He knew the douchebag had exchanged multiple explicit emails with his secretary. He also knew that 3 months later, the douchebag’s secretary died from a cocaine overdose at her apartment. Douchebag had been there, and hadn’t lifted a finger to call 911. The douchebag split and left the girl seizing on the floor. Douchebag. The whole thing was captured on the home security camera, which Mr. Robot intercepted and kept on a CD, just for a rainy day. He used the douchebag whenever he needed a favor, particularly one that might offend Elliot’s morals. The guy was well connected and scared shitless of Mr. Robot. It was just the way he liked it.

After scoring the suboxone, he popped into Duane Reade to buy his alibi Advil then returned to the apartment. Angela was asleep on the couch. 

He checked on Elliot - he appeared to Mr. Robot as a physical manifestation, sleeping there in the bed, looking peaceful. Mr. Robot sat on the edge of the bed facing the wall. He felt even more protective of Elliot than normal. It wasn’t just the fact that the kid had been hurt on his watch. It was something else. Elliot had memory lapses, sure, but he rarely, if ever, forgot recent memories or whole chunks of knowledge. For example, the memory of kicking morphine. Something was up. Someone was messing with Elliot’s head, and Mr. Robot needed to find out who. 

The other thing nagging at him was Tyrell. Mr. Robot hated that smug Swedish fuck. There was something between him and Elliot, but Mr. Robot didn’t like it. He didn’t trust Tyrell. He didn’t think Elliot should trust Tyrell either. Tyrell was trouble. They really needed to wash their hands of him. 

“What about Tyrell?” It was Elliot. He’d managed to surprise Mr. Robot. How long had he heard? It was weird that he couldn’t sense Elliot eavesdropping. 

“Nothing to worry about,” said Mr. Robot. “Just thinking about those Swedish meatballs at IKEA and it reminded me of him. How ya feeling?”

“Like my head is made of cotton balls,” said Elliot. Coming down from morphine was like waking up without a blanket. You didn’t notice that you needed it until it wasn’t there. Now, everything just felt different. His head ached. His body hurt. It was close to midnight. He would normally be worried about sleeping all the time, but he also knew his body and mind were trying to preserve whatever shreds of sanity he had left.

“Are you feeling up to a shower?” asked Mr. Robot.

“Yes,” said Elliot, and suddenly felt an intense longing to be clean. “Yeah,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. He was glad Mr. Robot had abandoned the idea of the hospital, the police. Elliot knew those people couldn’t be trusted. “Can I have some privacy?”

“Sure,” said Mr. Robot. “Just as long as you promise not to lock me up again.” 

Elliot nodded. “I won’t. I wouldn’t even know how.” 

The water in the shower was scalding. Elliot he was glad. Wasn’t hotter water the best thing to get clean? He’d heard that somewhere. His skin was turning red. 

Angela had a loofah in the shower and some kind of exfoliating face wash. He hoped it wasn’t expensive. He started to wash himself. Scrubbed at the skin until angry red spots appeared. Then just kept scrubbing. His body ached and groaned as he bent side to side. His fingers started to shake from gripping the loofah so hard. Eventually he dropped the loofah. Instead he started scratching at his skin. Goddammit. He couldn’t get deep enough to fix what had happened. No matter what he did he would always be marked now. As a victim. As a weakling, a child.

He stared down at the tiles, and suddenly they seemed to move. He’d been here before. Not here, but another shower. His house in Washington Township. Another tile floor. When he was a child. 

His stomach lurched and he leaned against the shower wall, then slid to the floor.

“No. Oh god. No.”

He was remembering.

—

_He was at home alone with his father watching Back to the Future. Elliot loved this movie. He loved his movie nights with Dad. His Dad never yelled. He didn’t put cigarettes out on Elliot’s arms. He’d let Elliot watch any movie he wanted and let him eat any snack he wanted. When Mom was being mean, his Dad was always there for him. He was Elliot’s only friend. He sometimes asked Elliot to do things that scared him. But that was because Elliot was special._

There were so many memories coming back to him. One after another. Elliot couldn’t stop them. He tried to scream but his body was paralyzed with horror. Only a whimper came out.

The guilt and shame Elliot felt at Hard Andy’s place hadn’t been a new feeling. It had been an echo. An echo of every single time his father had left his room and he’d cried himself to sleep, big wracking sobs. He wouldn’t let his father see him cry like this. He needed to be brave. When his father asked how it felt, he’d been silent.

He didn’t tell his father how it really felt. Sick. Wrong. Disgusting. Scary. He thought his father would be finished with him quicker and would leave him alone if he just lay there and said nothing. So he laid there. He let his father do what he wanted and waited for it to be over. He’d lay there until it got quiet and then he’d sneak in the shower to get clean. He’d sat in the shower for hours and hours. Elliot remembered how he hadn’t stopped his father, hadn’t even tried. He had wanted to be brave, but he was a coward. He was a coward then and he was a coward now. 

He deserved whatever he got now. No one as broken as him would ever deserve love. He would be alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot checks out. Mr. Robot is nowhere to be found. But someone else is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are gonna start finding out some answers, mostly because I’m worried that the show is gonna ruin my story before I have the chance to write it! No CSA triggers in this chapter. Who is the third?

A sudden crash jerked Angela awake. Darlene and Dom looked startled. “What the hell?” asked Angela.

“It’s Elliot.” Darlene jumped up as if she’d been fired out of a cannon and skidded down the hall. Dom reached for her holstered Glock on the side table and then followed. Still half asleep but with her heart racing, Angela stumbled after them. 

Darlene was already by Elliot’s side. Elliot was on the floor of the shower. He was covered in blood. The glass shower door had been shattered and pieces of glass were everywhere. Angela grabbed a towel and threw it to Darlene, who picked up Elliot’s hand and wrapped it with the towel. “Elliot, what the fuck?”

“Careful Darlene, there’s glass everywhere,” said Dom. 

Darlene was either not paying attention or didn’t care. Her focus was on her brother. Elliot wasn’t moving. He wasn’t speaking. He had somehow punched the glass hard enough to break it. His hand was bleeding badly. Darlene pressed the towel to his hand. “Elliot, what happened? Talk to me.”

There was no answer.

“Here,” Dom grabbed Darlene’s shoulders. “Let me help.” Darlene swatted her off like a fly. Helplessly, Dom re-holstered the glock and grabbed her phone, punched in some numbers. “This is Agent DiPierro. We need EMS at—“ she rattled off Angela’s address.

Elliot wasn’t moving but his eyes were open and unfocused. He was limp, like a ragdoll. 

Darlene was crying now. One arm was clinging to the towel on her brother’s hand. Her other hand was on his face. “Elliot, please, talk to me. Elliot, wake up. Elliot. Goddammit!” Darlene sobbed. “Dom, help him. Is he overdosing?” 

“Let me see his eyes.” Dom pushed past Darlene, her professionalism temporarily supplanting her compassion for her girlfriend. “I need to see if he’s responsive.” Dom took Darlene’s hand off Elliot’s face and turned it toward her. “His pupils are dilated. They’d be pinpoints if it were the drugs. It’s not an overdose. Hang on, I need to check—“

She activated the flashlight on her phone and pointed the light at Elliot’s face. “Pupils responding to light.” She sounded relieved. Darlene was still sobbing softly. Dom continued, businesslike. “Elliot, can you follow my finger?” 

She tracked her finger left to right in front of his face but Angela could tell whatever was supposed to be happening was not happening. Elliot’s eyes were empty. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t seeing them right now. His body might be reacting to the flashlight but his mind was somewhere else.

Darlene had crumpled to her side. Dom backed up slightly to grab Darlene’s shoulder. “Hun, you should go wait for EMS. Go make sure the door is unlocked.” 

“He is my brother, I’m not leaving him alone. Especially not with HER.” Angela knew Darlene was upset, but the barb stung all the same.

Angela moved to the left of Dom and looked at Elliot. She had to try to reach him. 

“Elliot...Elliot, wake up.”

Elliot continued staring. She took his head in her hands and said, tremulously, “Mr. Robot? Are you there?”

Nothing happened. The room was silent except for Darlene’s sobs.

Angela tried again. “Mr. Robot,” she said, more confidently. “Please. Elliot needs help. Where are you.”

—-

Mr. Robot couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. One second he was pointedly ignoring Elliot as the kid showered. The next moment...he was back in the box. The jail cell. Goddammit.

_”OK, Elliot, that’s enough.”_ Mr. Robot’s voice reverberated in the metal cell in their brain. _“Fool me once shame on me. Fool me twice? Shame on—”_

_“Shame...on...you.”_ A voice finished his thought. Mr. Robot whipped around, looking for the source of the voice. It was dark in the cell except for a faint light in one corner.

But in that corner, a figure was moving forward. As he moved, the source of light moved with him.

Mr. Robot saw the familiar hoodie. _”Elliot? Is that you?”_

_”Not Elliot. At least, not the Elliot you know.”_

Mr. Robot felt his stomach clench with foreboding. _”Then who the fuck are you?”_

_“You should know who I am,”_ said the non-Elliot, softly. _“We’ve met before.”_

_”What the fuck are you talking about?”_ The figure moved closer. Suddenly, Mr. Robot was aware that he was kneeling on the floor of the jail cell with his arms in shackles behind him._ “Who are you?”_

The figure squatted down, face to face with Mr. Robot, and slowly, lowered his hoodie. The face that looked into his was identical to Elliot. The light surrounding him seemed to burn into Mr. Robot’s eyes until it became almost unbearable to continue to look. 

When the non-Elliot spoke, his voice was low and monotone, and matter-of-fact. Emotionless. Like one of Elliot’s depressive monologues. 

_”I guess you could say that I’m your God. I am the one who created you. Who created Elliot. And to the extent God creates, he can also destroy. If you don’t stop trying to escape, I can destroy you. I’m more powerful than you. I am the alpha and the omega. The first and the last.” _

_”Man, not this God shit again. God is a fairytale. So just tell me who the fuck you are.” _

The non-Elliot’s expression was unreadable. _”I am the Elliot who remembers. Who remembers everything.”_ He paused, and then a playful grin spread across his face. _ “You can call me Sam Sepiol.”_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot and Mr. Robot are each locked away in separate corners of their mind. Someone else is in control. Meanwhile, Tyrell and Darlene are both worried about Elliot.

Tyrell was in a good mood. He hadn’t felt so exhilarated in a long time. He peeled off his blue nitrile gloves and discarded them on top of a pile of trash about to be incinerated by a street vendor offering discounted waste disposal. He relived the feeling of his blows connecting with the man’s bones. It had felt savage, but also sacred somehow. An act of vengeance was not without its beauty. He thought of Elliot with each blow, with each kick. And when the man begged for mercy, Tyrell only kicked him harder. This man had not showed Elliot mercy. Funny how everyone thinks that they are innocent, that they deserve mercy. This man was scum, and Tyrell dealt with him as such. He’d been near death when Tyrell left him at last. Let him gasp his last moments alone, frightened and scared like a fish. He’d bent down and whispered into the man’s ear, “this is for Elliot.” The man deserved to know for which of his many sins he was dying.

Back in his apartment, Tyrell was showering the sweat and grime off his body. When Elliot heard of this, Tyrell thought, he would have no choice but to welcome Tyrell’s love. Elliot would see that a man like Tyrell could be not only a powerful ally, but the most loyal of friends. The most passionate friendships were the basis for all great loves. Tyrell loved Joanna when they first met, loved her mind, her ruthlessness and ambition. He loved Elliot for his skills, his unique ability to transform the simplest of exploits into something like a symphony. His skill made everyone else look clumsy. He also loved Elliot because he didn’t surround himself with sycophants and powerful acquaintances. He didn’t need anything but himself. Tyrell wondered how that must feel. So powerful.

Tyrell grabbed his phone. He stared at it for a moment and then dialed the number he had for Elliot. He knew he shouldn’t be calling - the other one wouldn’t like that - but he was excited to tell Elliot of the act of vengeance.

Instead a woman picked up. “Hello? Who’s this?”

_Shit._ Tyrell hung the phone up quickly. Why was someone else answering Elliot’s phone? Had it been Angela?

He paced for several minutes, and as he did so, he fretted about the call and what it might mean. Was Elliot in trouble?

He needed to know what was happening. He needed to find Elliot and make sure he was OK. So it was time to find out what he could from Angela.

—

It was almost dawn. Angela had left the hospital, but Dom had stayed with Darlene. Darlene was scared to leave her brother alone in case he woke up and needed her. The doctors explained that he appeared to be in some kind of dissociative state. His heart rate and vital signs were all normal. He wasn’t responding to stimuli. They asked Darlene if there had been any trauma. What could she say? She told them about the rape, what she knew anyway. They chalked Elliot’s condition up to PTSD. They’d taken samples to use for a rape kit, even though he’d showered since then. She was glad he’d been asleep. Elliot hated to be touched, and all these strangers touching him would have been painful.

The doctors said they would observe him overnight but there wasn’t much else they could do.

She sat holding her brother’s hand, crying on and off. Dom was asleep on a chair in the corner. Darlene felt so alone. It was like when she was a little kid and she’d wake up after everyone had fallen asleep, and she’d feel like she was the only human being on the entire planet. The only person who existed or ever would exists

Elliot was supposed to be the strong one. He was always strong. What if he never came out of this? She didn’t know what the fuck she was supposed to do.

“Elliot,” she whispered. “Please come back to me. I can’t do this alone.”

—

Elliot was at the beach. It was sunny. It was a beautiful day. Just him and the waves. He liked being alone with the sound of the ocean and the seagulls squawking. But after a while he started to feel uneasy. How had he gotten here? Had he taken the train? Had Darlene come with him? How long had he been here? He couldn’t remember. It could have been an hour, or a day, or a year.

He stood up and looked around. The beach was deserted in either direction as far as he could see. The edges of his sight seemed blurry, as if he were looking at a photograph and the sides were out of focus.

_“Mr. Robot? Are you here?”_ It felt strange asking. Wasn’t Mr. Robot always with him?

He turned back to where he’d come from, looking for evidence of another human being. There was nobody. He was alone. This had to be a dream. A nightmare. He needed to wake up. He tried to force himself to snap back to reality but it was like an invisible force was pushing him back. It hurt to even try.

Why was he fighting anyway? It was nice here. Safe and warm. Out there he felt nothing but pain. Wasn’t it better this way?

_No,_ Elliot thought. _I have people I need to protect. Things I need to change. I can make the world better. I can. I just need to wake up.___

_ _Elliot blinked a few times. He set off walking down the beach, turning toward the blurry place in his mind. Someone or something wanted to keep him here. But he couldn’t stay. He had to fight. _ _

_ _—_ _

Elliot’s eyes fluttered open slightly. Darlene was standing over him. She shuddered slightly. “Elliot? Are you awake?”

“Yes,” said Elliot.

”Thank god.” Darlene was crying. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Elliot felt strange. It was like part of him was here, but part of him was gone. He didn’t feel alright. He felt...empty. Alone. Odd__.__

_ _—_ _

Mr. Robot was flinging himself against the bars of the cell repeatedly._ ”You can’t do this to me,”_ he addressed his captor. _”Elliot needs me. He needs me to protect him.”_

___”Well,” ___said the other Elliot. The one who called himself Sam Sepiol. ___”I’d say you’ve done a pretty terrible job of protecting him so far. That’s why I’m here. I thought you would be strong enough to help Elliot become the person he was always meant to be. Instead, he’s become just another junkie. I think it’s time for a change around here.”___

_”What do you mean?”_ Mr. Robot asked. The other Elliot turned away from him and walked away. The light went with him. And soon it was completely dark again in the cell.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time Elliot will have a conversation with Sam Sepiol and we’ll find out what has been going on. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for the comments and kudos, they really mean a lot to me!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot and Sam Sepiol meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well friends, today is finale day and I don’t know where canon is going to go, so I’m still chipping away at this weird little story. Thanks for joining me! If you’re watching live tonight, enjoy the finale! This fic will be here when you get back.

Elliot was lonely.

He’d had been out of the hospital for a few days and Darlene had only now begun to let him out of her sight. He appreciated her concern, but at the same time he hated people making a fuss over him. He hated having eyes on him, watching him to see if he was okay or if he was gonna lose it again. 

He was not okay. Not even close. 

Why had he forgotten everything that happened, and why had he remembered now? He hadn’t been doing great before, but he’d been surviving. He’d had a purpose - avenging his father. But what use was a mission of revenge when the person who inspired it in the first place turned out to be a monster? Elliot felt a sick clenching in his chest as he thought about how his father had hurt him. The one person he thought was on his side. He wished he could purge the memory from his brain. 

Darlene had made Elliot promise to stay with Angela. He wanted to, he did. But he needed to get answers about himself. Because he had another problem besides the shitstorm in his head. Mr. Robot was missing again. He was just gone, like he’d never existed. Elliot had tried to bring him out all the ways he knew how but to no avail. He wanted to talk to Mr. Robot, to demand to know why he’d been lied to.

Everyone in his life had lied to him now. His sister had lied while she was scheming against him with the FBI. Angela had lied about working with Mr. Robot and the Dark Army behind his back. And Mr. Robot had lied about Elliot’s father. About what his father did to him. And about that day with the window. He didn’t know if he was ready to forgive any of them.

He moved to the floor and sat with his head in his hands and arms grasping his knees. He started crying and tears came to his eyes. He rocked back and forth. He wanted to go back. To a time in his life when he thought his father was his best and only friend. To a time when he had Mr. Robot there to help him. To a time when it didn’t feel like everyone hated him and was plotting against him. He hated this fucking world. 

“Elliot.”

A voice spoke and he froze. He quickly scrambled to his feet just as a shadowy figure closed the door to the room. The figure looked identical to him.

“Who are you?” Elliot asked.

“I’m the one who made you. You can call me Sam Sepiol.” The figure drew closer and lowered its hood and Elliot was sure he was going crazy. He had to be crazy. 

“You’re not crazy.” 

Elliot stared at the other version of himself. “You can hear me?”

“I told you. I AM you. I created you.”

“What do you mean you created me? What the fuck are you talking about?”

The other Elliot —Sam Sepiol —sighed heavily. “I was once like you. Lonely, alone. Uncertain. Once I learned that I could close off pieces of my mind and create others, it was like a whole new world was opened to me. I was able to create new parts of me that could carry the burden. I called you Elliot - new Elliot - and I gave you all the things I liked about myself. My passion, my mind, my ability to hack people. I hoped you would make a difference in the world. But then, you needed a guide. Someone to make sure that you stayed on the correct path. Mr. Robot was that guide. I created him to be your friend, your confidant, your mentor. I hoped that together the two of you would do great things.” 

“Are you saying I’m not real?”

Sam Sepiol shrugged. “As real as any daydream, I suppose.”

Elliot shook his head. “No. No no no. I am real. I have memories! I remember things even I want to forget.”

“That was me I’m afraid,” said Sam Sepiol. “I don’t want to scare you, Elliot, but there is more that you don’t remember. I created you as a sort of tabula rasa - a blank state. I wanted to free you from the pain. The pain of the world. The pain of what our father did to us.” When he said the word ‘father’ it was full of venom. “I’m going to help you remember though, Elliot. It’s time. It’s time you and I began working together.”

“When?” asked Elliot. He was so confused, he couldn’t think straight. “When did you...make me?”

“Remember that day Darlene came to your door? You watched Careful Massacre? You were born that day. I wanted to start over. A perfect new vessel for our revolution.”

The two Elliots stared at each other for a while. “It’s OK,” said Sam Sepiol. “I know it’s confusing, but it’s going to be OK. I’m going to tell you everything.”

“How can I trust you?” said Elliot. “You made me remember about our father. Why would you do that? Why would you put such a sick fucking memory in my head? I was better off without it. I was better off without YOU.” The hatred in Elliot’s voice startled him. He didn’t know why but he hated this person in front of him. He seethed with rage. “And where is Mr. Robot?”

“Mr. Robot isn’t here right now. He’s taking a little time out to think about what he’s done. I trusted him to keep you safe, and he failed me.”

“He’s my friend,” said Elliot.

“We don’t need him, Elliot. He’s only caused us pain. We can get by without him.” 

“What did you do to him?”

The other Elliot looked disappointed. “I made him, I can destroy him. It really makes no difference. I don’t know why you’re so attached to him anyway. I’m the only friend you need.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot tells Darlene his secret, and decides to save his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! I needed a few weeks to detach from the canon plot line and get back into this story. But I’m hoping to finish it. Obviously this fic is now canon divergent. But I hope you’ll stick with me!

It had been months since Elliot was hospitalized. He appeared to be...normal. Going through the motions of being Elliot. Something was wrong, but Darlene couldn’t put her finger on it. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him,” sighed Dom. 

“He won’t talk to me,” said Darlene. “He doesn’t trust me. But I’m worried about him. He’s like a shell. It’s like there’s nothing going on inside. When he smiles, it’s like a mask.”

“Have you asked him about it?”

“He just says he’s fine.” Darlene’s voice trembled. “I want to know if he’s okay, but I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to scare him off. I couldn’t be responsible if he ended up doing morphine, or...worse. If he...hurt himself.” Darlene swallowed and took a shaky breath. She didn’t want to think about it, but she worried every time she opened a door that she’d find his body. 

“Will he talk to Angela?” 

“I don’t know. She peaced out for a while when he was out of the hospital. I guess she just couldn’t deal. And she left us to clean up her mess as usual.” 

Dom chewed absently on a pen tip. “Darlene I hate to say it but maybe you should call his therapist. See if she can get him hospitalized.”

Darlene shook her head. “No. I can’t do that to him. I promised I would take care of him. Not abandon him.”

“Then you don’t have much choice. You gotta be straight with him. Tell him you’re worried. Tell him you love him. At least you will have done all you can.”

—

Elliot was exhausted. He had tried to keep Sam Sepiol out of his brain, but it was pointless. The other Elliot was wrapped around him like skin on flesh. He couldn’t escape his creator. That’s what Sam told him over and over, anyway. 

“Don’t worry about control,” said Sam. “Don’t worry about who’s thinking these thoughts. We’re all the same. You and I want the same things. These distinctions don’t even matter.”

“I want...” said Elliot.

“We’ve discussed this,” Sam Sepiol sighed wearily. “Mr. Robot was no good for you. He failed you. We don’t need him.”

“I...I miss him.” Elliot felt a swell of emotion and nostalgia in his stomach. He missed Mr. Robot, even the things he hated about him. Even his loud annoying voice and his stupid hat.

Whenever Elliot expressed emotion, he could feel the Sam Sepiol entity pushing back with something like disgust or shame. As if human feelings were beneath him. And he wondered, not for the first time, what kind of monster had created him.

“Elliot, we need to talk.” It wasn’t the voice in his head. Elliot jumped slightly. Darlene was at the door. And the Sam Sepiol presence seemed to retreat, as if this conversation was beneath him. He had no patience for Darlene. When he went away, wherever he went, Elliot felt both relief and apprehension. Where was he? Where did he go when he wasn’t there with Elliot? Was he hurting Mr. Robot?

“Darlene, it’s not a good time,” said Elliot. He grabbed the bottle of Advil on his side table and poured three capsules into his palm. He swallowed them without water.

“It’s never a ‘good time’ for you, Elliot. I need to talk to you now.”

Darlene looked like she’d been crying. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You. You’re wrong,” said Darlene. “Don’t try to deny it. Something is different, ever since that day we found you in the shower. And I don’t know what it is but it scares the shit out of me.” She sat on the bed next to him and squeezed his hand. “You’re not sleeping. I hear you tossing and turning and yelling, in your sleep. And when you’re awake it’s like...it’s like you’re sedated. I need to know what’s going on, because...I can’t fucking lose you, Elliot. I love you.”

Elliot averted his eyes from his sister. He had been avoiding this conversation because he was afraid. Afraid he’d find out something that would be even worse than what he already knew. Or afraid she would hate him for what had happened.

Elliot sighed and slowly looked back up at Darlene. “I want to tell you. But I don’t know if I can even say it out loud.”

“What are you talking about, Elliot? You don’t have to be afraid. I can take it.”

He looked at her, his little sister, and she looked so resolved. He knew he wasn’t going to get out of this conversation. He decided to start with the worst possibility. 

“Darlene. When we were little, did dad...did he ever...hurt you?”

Darlene stared at him. Whatever she’d expected Elliot to say, it wasn’t this. After a moment, Darlene said, “No. It was always mom putting cigarettes out on me. Dad wasn’t always the easiest to live with, but no, I don’t remember anything like that.”

Elliot nodded. 

Darlene’s face changed from confusion to something like shock. “Why are you asking me that? Did he...hurt you?”

Elliot nodded again. His eyes were wet. His heart was pounding. Fight or flight. He wanted to get away from this conversation. But Darlene grabbed his hand and gripped it even harder.

“What did he do?” Darlene said. “Is this about the Kevin McAllister thing? Because I told you, Dad never pushed you out the window.”

“I know,” said Elliot glumly. “I jumped. I remember it now.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah.” He took in a breath and tried to summon the courage to keep going. “Dad didn’t break my arm or push me out the window. But he hurt me. That day when you found me in the shower...all of these memories came back. All of these things that I forgot. And I couldn’t handle it. It broke me. I kept hoping it was a bad dream I could wake up from. But instead I just kept remembering more.”

“Elliot,” said Darlene, gentle but urgent. “What are you talking about? What did Dad do?”

“I can’t...” Elliot’s voice was choked.

“Elliot. You can tell me anything. I’m not going to judge you. I’m your sister, and I love you.”

Elliot was fully crying now. “He made me do things I didn’t want to do.“

Darlene’s eyebrows furrowed. “Elliot, are you saying...”

Elliot turned his face slightly away from her. He wanted this conversation to be over. When he spoke again, his voice was flat and emotionless. “He touched me. And then he made me touch him.”

“Are you saying he molested you?” Now Elliot was still and silent, and Darlene’s whole body was shaking. 

“Yeah,” said Elliot. “Yes.”

“When did this happen?”

“I think I was seven the first time. But it kept going right up to that day I jumped.” Elliot couldn’t look at Darlene. 

She let out a rattling breath. “That fucking piece of shit!” She grabbed Elliot’s hand so hard he could feel her fingernails digging into the flesh. “How did I not know? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I made myself forget, I guess. Something shut off inside me and I just...forgot.” 

“What about mom? Did she know? Did she let it happen?”

Elliot shrugged. “I tried telling her once and she told me I was making things up. She tried to get me to say I was lying. And when I said it was real, she took my hand and held it on the stove. I had blisters on my hand for two weeks.”

“Jesus fuck,” said Darlene. “Elliot, I’m so sorry. That is fucking horrific. I wish I knew. I wish I could have stopped it.”

Elliot shrugged. “You were so little. There’s nothing you could have done. I was worried he was going to do it to you. That was my biggest fear. I knew I had to keep you safe, no matter what. So I didn’t fight him. I let it happen.” He nodded his head twice. “I let it happen. It’s my fault.”

“Elliot.” Darlene grabbed his jaw and forced him to look her in the eyes. “Why do you always think everything is your fault. If Dad had done this to me, would it have been my fault?”

“No,” said Elliot. The emotion was back in his voice and tears were threatening to spill over the lower lids of his eyes.

“That’s right,” said Darlene. “So don’t hold yourself responsible for that sick man and his sick actions.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Darlene’s hand continued gripping his in a vice grip.

“Hey,” said Elliot, trying to inject some levity into the situation. “You trying to break my hand?”

“I’m sorry,” said Darlene, and her grip loosened. After a moment she asked, “Are you okay?”

He shrugged. He was definitely not okay. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not going to...do something, are you?”

“I’m not going to hurt myself, Darlene.”

Her jaw relaxed very slightly and she let out the shaky breath she’d been holding in. “Good,” she said. “I need you. You’re my big brother. You mean the world to me and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He patted her on the shoulder in return. The tears were falling freely now. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, apart from relief. Relief that his father hadn’t touched Darlene. And relief that Darlene didn’t think less of him for his confession. He didn’t quite believe her when she said he’d done nothing to deserve this. But maybe, in time, he’d be able to move on from the guilt. Maybe he could keep going. For Darlene.

They talked for another 20 minutes, and then Darlene excused herself saying she was going to get Elliot a sandwich. As soon as she left the room, Elliot did a mental survey. Sam Sepiol was still gone, it seemed.

I didn’t fight my father, thought Elliot. I was too weak. I let him control me. But I can’t let anyone else take my mind away.

Elliot needed to fight for his existence. And he needed to fight for his friend. He was going to get Mr. Robot back. Sam Sepiol be damned. But how?

The beginnings of a plan stirred in him. And he grabbed his cellphone. He sent a message to Tyrell on the signal app. The message flashed for 10 seconds and then auto-deleted. One line, two words. “Red wheelbarrow.”

It was the code he and Tyrell had come up with for when they had to meet. He needed an ally in this fight for his existence. And he knew that Tyrell would always be loyal to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. If you’re confused, never fear - answers are coming!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrell and Elliot meet up to discuss a plan to get Mr. Robot back and get rid of Sam Sepiol. Tyrell comes to terms with loving Elliot and what that means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyrelliot feels ahoy!

“So, you’re telling me that there are three of you?”

Elliot nodded. He looked nervous. His lips were pressed tightly together and a thin layer of sweat clung to his skin. He glanced from side to side in the crowded barbecue restaurant as though he were being pursued by international assassins or mafiosos. But, Tyrell thought, all of Elliot’s demons are in his own mind.

“How do you know that this...Sam...isn’t listening right now?”

Elliot closed his eyes for a moment. “I can feel him. Now that I know what to look for. I don’t think he can get the jump on me, but I could be wrong. He’s surprised me before.” Elliot lowered his voice, as if he was anxious someone else was listening. “I noticed his presence would go away when Darlene was around. He doesn’t like her, for some reason. She reminds him of his...our past, I guess. So then I started watching his patterns. Morphine tends to dull his responses a little. I think that will be part of how we catch him off guard.”

Tyrell looked skeptical. “What do you intend to do, exactly? If what you’ve told me is true, he’s a part of you. You can’t just kill him.”

Elliot nodded. “I know. But he hasn’t interfered before now. I think that we — Mr. Robot and me — were able to suppress him somehow.” 

Tyrell sneered a bit at the name “Mr. Robot.” Such a juvenile name, for such an unappealing person. So crass. So...lowbrow. Not like him and Elliot. Tyrell had hoped that Elliot would want to rid himself of Robot and Sam in one fell swoop. Then it would just be Elliot. Elliot and Tyrell. He liked that idea. He liked the idea of being enough for Elliot. 

Elliot looked at Tyrell. “I know, you don’t like him. He hasn’t always been the easiest to be around.” Tyrell said nothing. “But,” Elliot continued, “He protects me. He’s saved my life. He keeps me focused. The one time...the one time he got locked away, I made some stupid decisions. I hurt myself and I let others hurt me.”

Tyrell felt rage rise in his stomach like he’d swallowed a hot coal.

“He...helps me stay grounded. I need him. I love him.”

Tyrell looked away.

“Not that I...well. It’s not the same as the way that I love you.” Elliot’s voice trailed off. “You know what I mean. It’s different.”

The burning feeling was suddenly doused. Tyrell felt a wave of pure joy when Elliot said those words. ‘I love you.’ They’d been coy at times, and Tyrell had wondered what Elliot’s true feelings were. But he could tell in the quiver of Elliot’s voice that those three words were as genuine as they were tender. Tyrell’s rage began to abate. 

“Elliot,” said Tyrell. “I love you too. And no matter what I think of that...Robot person...if you say you need him, then he stays. I will fight for him like I will fight for you. I’m always on your side. You know that.” 

Elliot glanced up at Tyrell with a small, secretive smile. For a moment his face looked years younger.

“But let’s discuss this plan. I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Elliot nodded. “It’s gonna be trial and error, of course. I need you and Darlene to administer the morphine and keep me safe, physically. I worry that if he senses we’re trying to suppress him, he’ll take us down with him.”

Tyrell nodded.

“The first thing I have to do is free Mr. Robot. From wherever he’s being kept, locked up somewhere...” Elliot pointed vaguely at his own head. “I don’t know how long it will take. I’m going to be sedated but I think if I use that lucid dreaming method I told you about, I’ll be able to navigate...inside my head. I’ll find him and get him free. Whatever we do, we’ll have to do together.”

Elliot shook a little bit as he ran his fingers through his hair, then let out a long breath. “I’m hoping we can convince him to go away. But if we can’t...I don’t know. There’s a chance that I might never come back - not as the me that you and Darlene know.”

Tyrell’s brow furrowed. “Elliot, I will not let that happen.”

Elliot waved him away. “If for some reason, he takes over and tries to hurt you, or hurt Darlene...you need to take him down. Inject him with enough morphine that he’s down for the count. Then take Darlene somewhere safe, and call Angela to warn her so she can get out of town for a while. I’m worried that Sam will try to use them against me. That he might...hurt them.”

Tyrell scoffed. “So what, I’m just some fucking babysitter? Listen, Elliot, I don’t know your sister and I don’t really give a fuck about your sister. Why should I give up on you, just to save her?”

“Tyrell,” Elliot said. Tyrell felt a shiver down his spine at the sound of his name on Elliot’s tongue. “If you care about me, if you...love me...you have to protect Darlene. And you have to protect yourself. If I lose you...I have nobody. And if I don’t have you of her, then I might as well just go to sleep forever and let Sam take over. I’ve lost so many people. I can’t lose anyone else.”

Tears were in Elliot’s eyes. Tyrell modded, chastened. He reached across the table and grabbed both of Elliot’s hands. Elliot’s hands were about the same size as his, though more thin and callused from typing. But still somehow delicate. Tyrell could imagine spending his life taking care of Elliot. If giving a shit about Darlene and Mr. Robot, and even that fucking milk-toast Angela, was the price he had to pay to keep those hands entwined with his forever, then he would pay it and be glad. He could do this. They could do this.

“So,” said Tyrell. “When is all this going down?”

“Tomorrow night,” said Elliot. “Do you have somewhere private where we won’t be disturbed?”

“My apartment,” said Tyrell. “No one will bother us no matter what. And I can instruct my doorman to make sure we aren’t interrupted.”

“Good,” said Elliot. “So...we’re really gonna do this.”

Tyrell smiled. “You and I, together, can build empires. Or tear them down. We are powerful, Elliot. And we are going to win.”

Elliot smiled again, that tiny half smile. And Tyrell knew that it was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise...bet you thought you’d seen the last of me! I was putting this off because I didn’t know if I could do it justice, but Im feeling pretty good about it now. These will be the last few chapters. Please comment and let me know what you think! It brings me so many good brain chemicals to get a new notification. Until next time...(when shit gets real)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot, Darlene and Tyrell team up to try to bring Mr. Robot back and defeat Sam Sepiol once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw child abuse and nongraphic sexual abuse

They were all gathered in Tyrell’s living room. Elliot was on the couch, lying still. Darlene and Tyrell stood over him.

“Are you ready?” said Tyrell. Elliot modded. Tyrell approached him with the syringe.

Elliot stared warily at the syringe. He knew why he needed to take it. To try to dull Sam Sepiol’s senses. But it felt like a failure. Staring down that syringe, he recalled the times in his life when he’d been desperate for numbness. Now, all he wanted was clarity.

He offered his arm to Tyrell and looked away. Tyrell tied a band around Elliot’s arm. “Tense your arm for me,” he said. Moments later, Elliot felt the needle. 

Bliss. Pure fucking bliss. Thank god for whatever stupid idea had brought him this feeling again. Even if it was just this one time. He felt his consciousness drifting away and felt like he was spinning, rocking pleasantly. 

Elliot’s eyes closed and he became very still. Darlene stared at Tyrell suspiciously. “How much did you give him?”

Tyrell soothed, “I gave him a dose on the low side of normal. We might need to re-dose him later. I don’t know how long this is supposed to take.” 

Darlene touched Elliot’s face. “I hope it’s over soon. I don’t like this.”

Tyrell said nothing, but he didn’t like it either. 

—

Elliot was on the beach. Coney Island. When did he get here? He tried to think.

A mantra popped into his head. “Find Mr. Robot.”

With that thought, he started to remember what he was doing here. It felt like he was stumbling around in a dream, where your limbs don’t work very well but you still have to keep slogging forward. He knew he wouldn’t find Mr. Robot here. If Sepiol was hiding him...he was hiding him somewhere Elliot wouldn’t think to look. 

How could he break Mr. Robot out of whatever prison Sepiol had hidden him in? Mr. Robot was always there for him. If he wasn’t appearing it was because he couldn’t.

Elliot had to go somewhere else. But he had no idea where to go, or how any of this worked. He was tempted...so tempted...to just sit down on the beach and let the sand swallow him up. But then he thought about the loved ones he’d be leaving behind if he disappeared into his brain forever. 

He had to wake Mr. Robot up. And to do that, he needed to go somewhere darker.

As he turned away from the beach, the skies became dark. It was becoming night. He followed along like he was an actor in a play. He walked to the door of the fsociety arcade. But when he opened the door, he was inside his childhood kitchen. 

“You,” said Magda. She stood over the stove, beautiful but haughty. Elliot shrank away at the sight of her. She was in a bad mood and he needed to get out of her sight before something bad happened.

“Don’t you dare run away from me you little bastard,” she said. And Elliot felt himself being dragged across the floor. It was like he was eight years old and powerless to help himself.

“You deserve this for what you did to your father. For what you did to me. You’re an ungrateful little brat and you need to be taught a lesson.” She grabbed his arm and Elliot was frozen. She rolled his sleeve back and he noticed that his arm was small, a child’s arm. And then...she was pressing his hand down on the hot stove.

Elliot’s brain exploded. He felt the searing fire going through his arm. He tried to squirm away but his mother was stronger and she kept him down. The burning was unbearable. He had to stop this. 

“There’s no stopping this,” she said. And Elliot remembered for a moment that he wasn’t a child. He was an adult. He could do whatever he wanted. This was his brain. Magda wasn’t really there. Magda was HIM. 

He tugged his arm away but again, he couldn’t stop the burning. He screamed as loud as he could “Mr. Robot! Where the fuck are you! Help me!”

Magda laughed. “He can’t help you Elliot. He will never be able to help you again.” She released her grasp on his arm and he held it to his chest, as tears rolled down his cheeks. And then he was running. Running like he had so many times away from Magda, to his room. He shook as he entered the room, slammed the door behind him, and locked it tight. “Mr. Robot,” he said. But the thought was internal now. “I need you to come. I need you to help me. Whatever he’s done to you, I know you can hear me. Help me. Now.”

There was nothing but silence.

—

Darlene and Tyrell both jumped when Elliot’s previously limp body began writhing and shaking. “What’s wrong with him?” Darlene asked. Tyrell notice her voice was high pitched, childlike. 

“He’s having a seizure. You need to give him the NarCan.” Darlene went to Elliot and tried to hold his head still despite the shaking.

“No,” Tyrell said quietly. “We can’t. He needs this shot. We knew there might be...a physical reaction. He’ll be fine.”

“We can do this another time,” said Darlene and her voice was cloying. “He has to stay alive!”

Tyrell felt cold wash through him. He hated this whining girl, so weak, so pathetic. Didn’t she trust Elliot at all? Or did all of Elliot’s friends and family treat him like a china doll, constantly on the verge of breaking? No wonder Elliot liked it so rough when Tyrell was with him. He wasn’t easily broken. He was just tired of being coddled. 

“Darlene, if you don’t step away from him—“ Tyrell pointed a syringe toward her —“you’ll be the next one unconscious.”

Darlene stared at Tyrell, then gingerly released her hold on Elliot’s head, which immediately began flopping again. 

“You’re a heartless motherfucker,” said Darlene.

“I’ve been called worse,” said Tyrell.

“When this is over, I’m going to fucking murder you.”

Tyrell barked a laugh at that. “What, you’ll kill the only person Elliot trusts? He trusted ME with this plan. More than you. More than Angela. More than anyone. He can make his own choices and doesn’t need your constant nagging.”

Darlene looked as though she’d been slapped. She sat on the floor next to Elliot and buried her face in her hands.

Tyrell turned to the bar and poured himself a large glass of vodka. “He’ll be fine,” he said again. 

—

Elliot felt a cold sensation wash over him.

His childhood bedroom was exactly how he remembered it. His old computer, his bedspread. A couple of long forgotten toys in the corner. 

And the knocking on the door.

At first he thought it was Magda, pursuing him. But it wasn’t the harsh, insistent, angry knocking. It was gentle. Conciliatory. 

And then he heard it. “Elliot? Can you let me in?”

Mr. Robot. But no. Not Mr. Robot. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t him.

It was Elliot’s father.

Elliot began to shake violently.

“Let me in, son.”

Elliot choked on his sobs. He wiped his eyes with his arm and when he looked at it he realized there was no physical injury. Any evidence that his mother had just burned him was gone. It was just an arm. His arm. Smaller and childlike, but him.

He surveyed the room. Mr. Robot wasn’t coming for him. Maybe because Mr. Robot hadn’t been created due to Elliot’s mother. It wasn’t the cigarette burns and the physical and verbal onslaught that brought him his protector. It was his father.

He glanced at the window. I could escape out that window again, like I did before, he told himself. But he knew that wouldn’t work. He had to find Mr. Robot. Maybe this was the only way.

Slowly, he moved from the bed toward the door. The morphine haze wasn’t entirely gone, and he felt a sense that this was not real. He tried to hold onto that sense.

He unlocked the door and pulled the handle open. It was his father. He smelled of aftershave and cigarettes. Just like he had that day.

Edward Alderson took several paces forward, forcing Elliot to back up. Then he pulled the key from Elliot’s hand and locked the bedroom door behind him.

“Son,” he said earnestly, turning to stare at Elliot. “You know I wish I could be a better father to you. But I want you to know that I love you. I really do. And these things we do together...they’re from that love. I wouldn’t need them if I didn’t love you so much. But you’re the one, Elliot. You’re special.” 

Elliot may have been in the body of a child, but his mind was more or less intact. “What you did to me...it’s not love,” he said, slowly. It was hard to speak the words. They came out in childlike tones. 

Edward’s face registered genuine hurt and alarm. And then it grew stern. 

“That’s not how little boys talk to their fathers,” he said. His voice was singsong-y, lecturing. He guided Elliot to the bed. He sat Elliot down and sat down next to him. “Son, I love you. And I know you love me. I want you to say it.”

“Say what?” Elliot felt himself becoming the rebellious child again. How old was he? It wasn’t clear. “What...do you want me to say?”

Edward took one hand and put it on Elliot’s chin, tilting it up to look at his face. “Say that you love me, Elliot.”

Whatever control Elliot had over the situation, he felt it fading. Suddenly he couldn’t remember how old he was. When he heard his father say he was special, Elliot felt a strange tingle of pride. It felt good, needing to be loved by his dad. And his dad was always nice to him. Elliot felt sorry for his Dad. He was lonely. He needed what they had. And he should make his Dad feel better. He should be a good son.

“Okay,” he said, hesitantly. “I love you.”

Edward wrapped him in a big hug. Elliot was a little boy with his Dad, and everything was okay. For a moment.

Then Elliot’s dad reached over and unbuckled Elliot’s jeans. Started to unbuckle his own. Then wriggled out of them and grabbed Elliot, a little roughly. Elliot was paralyzed. He was so much smaller than his Dad. He could never fight him back. He could just sit there and pretend it wasn’t happening. Pretend they were playing computer games or throwing a baseball together or something else that Dads do with their sons. 

Elliot felt himself drifting off. How had he gotten here? What had he been looking for in his room again? He couldn’t remember. He felt sick to his stomach when his Dad started to touch him. He squeezed his eyes shut. Tears were leaking out of the corners. He wished for a second that he was being burned again. It would hurt, but it would be so much less humiliating, less sickening than this. He couldn’t do this anymore.

He stared at his hand as Edward gently guided it to his own lap. The hand. A child’s hand.

I’m not a child, Elliot suddenly remembered. The memory was taking him over. But he had this one moment of clarity. One moment to rescue himself. Not just from this but from everything. 

He opened his mouth and screamed as loud as he could: “Help! Mr. Robot! Help me!”

Edward seemed not to hear him. For a moment, Elliot thought he’d failed. Would he be trapped here now forever?

And then...

The door behind Edward rattled and then was kicked off its hinges. In the doorway stood not Edward Alderson, but unmistakably, Mr. Robot. 

“Get the fuck off him you son of a bitch,” Mr. Robot growled. 

Elliot felt the relief wash over him. He was going to be okay. Mr. Robot was here to save him. 

And then Edward Alderson grabbed Elliot’s baseball bat and swung it directly at Mr. Robot’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! This is the second to last chapter - plus maybe a little epilogue. if anyone is still reading this please forgive me for the extreme lack of updates. I love you and I’m sorry!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter but the next one is coming right away!

Mr. Robot had been in the cage for...he didn’t know how long. Time lost its meaning when you were trapped in an imaginary prison. He spent days screaming at the monster who’d put him there. But soon he stopped wasting his breath. He was beginning to forget. To forget how he got here. To forget his mission to protect Elliot. 

Until he heard Elliot’s cry for help.

It pierced his eardrums, penetrated his mind and rattled the walls of his cage. And when he heard it, the bars around him seemed to melt away under the sheer force of his will.

He started running. He didn’t know how long he’d run for but it felt like forever. He was following the sound of Elliot’s call, tracing it to its source. And he stumbled upon the room - Elliot’s childhood bedroom.

He saw what was happening and emitted a growl. “Stay away from him!” he screamed at the man who looked like his double. 

Elliot looked stunned. Shell-shocked. When he saw Mr. Robot, tears sprang from his eyes. Mr. Robot wanted to go to him, to comfort him.

But even as he stepped toward Elliot, Edward Alderson was bearing down with him, armed with an aluminum bat.

He dodged the first swing, but in doing so he lost his balance and began to fall. He scrambled to stand, and saw the bat coming down again. Heading straight for his skull. He braced for impact.

But the blow didn’t come. Elliot had grabbed Edward Alderson’s collar and was now flinging him like a ragdoll. Mr. Robot marveled at the strength this must have taken. The same adrenaline fueled rage and fear that had allowed Mr. Robot to escape his cell was now giving Elliot an unimaginable power. Edward Alderson was pummeled left and right before coming to rest against a wall, his arm bent at a grotesque angle.

“Come on,” said Elliot. He grabbed up Edward Alderson under the armpits. And Mr. Robot hurried to grab the man’s legs. They both knew what to do. Together, they dragged the man’s limp body to the windowsill. The window Elliot jumped out of to escape his father’s abuse. It was already open. Snow was gathering on the sill. 

“Son—“ gasped Mr. Alderson. “Please—“

Mr. Robot looked at Elliot. A single tear ran down his cheek.

“You don’t get to call me son,” he said. “You are not my father. A father takes care of his children. You’re just a sick, pathetic, old man. And you’ll never—“ Elliot stopped, his voice shaking with emotion and rage. “—you’ll never hurt me again.”

He looked back at Mr. Robot and then together, they shoved the man’s body out the window. His body hit the ground with a satisfying crunch, and blood soaked the snowy ground below him.

Elliot then looked at Mr. Robot. “Is it really you?” 

Mr. Robot smiled. “It’s me.”

“I called for you.”

“I heard you. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

Mr. Robot took a step toward Elliot. He wasn’t sure whether he should touch Elliot, given what he’d just witnessed. But Elliot made the decision for him. He flung his arms around Robot’s shoulders and they embraced. “I know you’re not him,” said Elliot. “You’re my friend. My best friend.”

Mr. Robot get a wave of relief rush over him. “I meant what I said, Elliot. I will never leave you.”

For a moment, everything was alright. 

And then they heard a voice. It was him. Sam Sepiol. 

“Do you really think that’s all you had to do to get rid of me?”


	16. Chapter 16

Sam was like a clone of Elliot. But an imperfect one. Mr. Robot studied him and took in his otherworldly features, his twisted expression. He was all the worst parts of Elliot. The rage and emptiness in his eyes made him look older, tired. He didn’t have any hint of joy in his sneering grin.

Elliot and Mr. Robot stood in front of him. “Did you do that to me?” Elliot asked. “Did you...send him here? Did you want me to go through that again?” 

“You’re weak,” said Sam. “I wanted you to remember how weak you are.” 

Mr. Robot wanted to punch him. But this was Sam Sepiol’s show. He had an advantage here as this was his home turf. He knew the ins and outs of Elliot’s brains better than Mr. Robot did. Maybe even better than Elliot himself.

“I could show you more,” said Sam. “I could show you everything he did to us. In detail. I could make you live here forever in this memory. Or...maybe this one.”

Sam snapped his fingers and suddenly they were standing outside a prison yard at night time. Next to a car with an open trunk. Shayla’s dead body lay inside.

“Or how about this?”

A blink and then they were in Elliot’s apartment, at his computer, watching the news with Mobley and Trenton’s faces staring back at them. The chyron read “JUSTICE - TERRORISTS DEAD.” 

“See Elliot, you always bring out the worst in people,” said Sam. “You’re weak. You can’t save anyone. Your pathetic delusions about saving the world turned out to be nothing more than a scared little boy playing superhero. And everyone who trusts you? Everyone who buys into your stupid vision? They end up dead.” 

Elliot looked at Mr. Robot. Mr. Robot saw something in his eyes he didn’t recognize. Elliot was not afraid of Sam. Mr. Robot was terrified of the otherworldly Elliot. But the real Elliot seemed to know something he didn’t.

“You know what,” said Elliot. “I believed you before, when you said you made us. And that you own us.” 

Sam Sepiol leered at him.

“But you know what? I think you were trying to fix this. I think you wanted to be better, so you made someone who was just like you. Like you, but better.”

Sam looked enraged. “Better? How would you know?”

“Look at you, man,” said Elliot. “You’re angry. You’re a mess. You’ve been through the worst that any human can do to another human - and you came out the other side. But it broke you. Any hope or goodness or light that was in you is gone. And I think you gave it to me. I think that I’m the person you wish you could be.”

Mr. Robot saw something on Sam’s face. Vulnerability, maybe. Doubt.

“You can make us feel small,” continued Elliot, “but that doesn’t make you big. You’re just holding on to a control that you don’t even want anymore. Admit it, man. You let me and Mr. Robot take control because you thought that the good inside you could save the world.”

Sam Sepiol had turned ghostly white.

“You wanted that for us. You wanted to let go. So why are you doing this, man? Why are you trying to lock us away now?”

Sam Sepiol looked smaller, thinner, frailer. As though Elliot’s words were sapping the fight right out of him. “You fucked it up,” he said softy. “You were supposed to save the world, not make it worse.”

“Yeah,” said Elliot. “You’re right. I fucked it up - big time. But here’s the thing about fucking up. Sometimes it makes you stronger. Sometimes it makes you fight harder to fix what you broke. All of the things you’re showing me - I felt guilty for them for a long time. But if I hadn’t...if I hadn’t gone through what Dad did to us, if I hadn’t lost Shayla...if the five/nine hack never happened...I wouldn’t be me. And I wouldn’t be able to do what I’m about to do now.”

Sam was smaller still now. Very small. Fragile and weak.

“You’re a part of me. I don’t want to kill you,” said Elliot. “But I think you know as well as I do...it’s time for you to go away for a while.”

Mr. Robot wasn’t sure what he was seeing was real. 

Sam Sepiol was on the ground. Sobbing quietly. Curled in the fetal position. Suddenly, glass walls were rising around him. He began to float upwards as what Mr. Robot realized must be a tank began filling up with water. 

“You made us,” said Elliot. “And for that I will always be grateful. So I’m going to make a safe place for you. You can stay as long as you want. We’ll take care of you.” 

The man in the fish tank no longer resembled Elliot. He no longer resembled a man at all. He was a fish. A black fish in a tiny fishbowl. 

Elliot picked up the fishbowl and set it on the ledge. “Here,” he said. “You can stay here. By the window. Just rest. You don’t have to be angry or sad anymore. We’ll take care of you.”

Elliot turned to Mr. Robot and Robot saw there were tears in his eyes.

Mr. Robot was stunned. Shocked. “Are you sure?”

Elliot nodded. “He’ll be safe here. It’s kinder than keeping him in a cage.”

“He won’t be able to get out?”

“Look at him, man. I don’t think he wants to. Who would want to keep living with all that anger and pain?”

They stared at the little fish in the bowl. It looked like it didn’t have a care in the world.

“Hey,” said Mr. Robot. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They smiled at each other. 

Elliot sighed. Then he took a long breath and let it out slowly. “I think it’s time for us to wake up, don’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was weird! Let me know if there are any questions I can answer about this chapter. This is the end of the main story, but there will be an epilogue. Hope you guys have enjoyed it!


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this! I miss this show so much and writing this fic was therapeutic. Everyone keep showing up and fighting every single day. We got this.

_Dear Krista,_

_You said that even though I’m not your patient anymore, I could write to you sometime and tell you how I’m doing. It turns out that you didn’t even know the half of how messed up I was. Am. I don’t know._

_But anyway, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger I guess? I want to tell you someday about what happened but I don’t really feel like living in the dark anymore._

_I’m doing well. Really well. I’ve been clean for about 4 months. No alcohol, no cigarettes even. I’m in a relationship. It’s with a man. I don’t know whether I ever would have had the strength to tell you that out loud. He cares about me. But more importantly, I care about myself. Fuck, that sounds cheesy. But it’s true._

_I’m living with Darlene right now, because I don’t want to be alone anymore. It’s funny, we never really got to have a normal brother sister relationship when we were kids. I guess we’re doing everything backwards. She lives with her girlfriend, Dom. Dom is good people, even though she works for the FBI. I know they love each other. Darlene’s still not sure about my boyfriend. I don’t know if they’ll ever get along. But she doesn’t mean anything bad. She’s just trying to protect me - to be a good sister._

_I guess you know some things about what my father did to me when me and Darlene were kids. I don’t remember if I told you, but you probably figured it out. Mr. Robot has been helping me work on it, but most of the time it’s easier to forget. Sometimes I want to go back to forgetting about everything, and I want to pretend I never found out. But then I’d be living a lie. I don’t know if heroes are real, but I do know my father was not a hero. I guess canonizing him my whole life was part of how I kept blaming myself for everything that happened. If he was perfect, then I must have been the bad one._

_So my dad wasn’t perfect, and I’m not perfect. My relationship isn’t perfect. My life isn’t perfect. But I guess what I’m figuring out is...it’s not about perfect. As long as we keep fighting. Keep showing up. Keep trying. Trying to help other people, or just heal ourselves. It doesn’t have to be that deep. I think once I start believing deep down that I don’t have to be perfect, then I’ll finally be happy. I won’t have to worry all the time about saving the world. I only have to worry about saving me. About being Elliot._

_Anyway, thanks for everything. I hope this letter makes sense. I hope you’re okay. Maybe one day we’ll see each other again._

_Love,_  
_Elliot_


End file.
